Yesterday, when I arrived at work, a dad and his 5 year-old-ish son were coming off the elevators and leaving the building.
“Meow! Meow!” The little boy cried as he was trying to keep up with his dad who was walking quickly. Then he looked at his dad and said, “Can I be petted?” The dad kept walking and looked at me, embarrassed.
Yesterday evening, I was outside with my dog Ash throwing the ball for him. One of my neighbors, who I see often out with his dog began making idle chit chat with me.
“How are you today?” He asked.
“I’m good!” I said. “How are you?”
“I’m sore.” (It always takes me by surprise when acquaintances don’t answer with a “fine” or “good”.)
“I started running yesterday. And I just smoked my last cigarette so I’m gonna go run right now in the park to forget about smoking for a while.”
“Oh that’s great!” I said. “We went running this morning.” (Ash and I run to Wash Park almost every morning. It’s less than a mile away.)
“See you later!” He said.
“Have fun on your run!” I said.
Then he got in his car to drive to Wash Park.
Last night, when I got home from my volleyball game, I was again outside with my dog. We were not playing ball because it was dark out, and time to calm down a bit for bed. At this time ANOTHER guy that I see regularly around my apartment complex walked by. He often comments on how often he sees me outside playing ball with Ash. He said to Ash “Where’s your ball?” Which immediately got Ash excited. Then the guy found a pretty good sized rock, and threw it.
Ash immediately chased it, put it in his mouth, and brought it to me. Then he dropped it on the ground and stared at it excitedly.
I turned to the guy and said, “Did you really just convince my dog to put a rock in his mouth!?”
I turned to Ash and said, “No, Ash. We don’t play with rocks. That’s going to break your teeth.”
The guy didn’t say another word to me and went inside.